


Hurt you better

by ThatwasJustaDream



Series: Thank you fics - 2014 Brag Book on the LJ 1_million_words comm [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Dean, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Castiel, Whipping, bound wrists, hints of daddy issues, leather belt, more than sam wants to know, plug gag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/pseuds/ThatwasJustaDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written to fill a prompt for some kinky Destiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurt you better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanorganaas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanorganaas/gifts).



> This is set somewhere in a future corner of S10 or S11, where Castiel is still part human but has more of his angel powers back. Dean is trying to move forward after beating the Mark, despite his ongoing struggle with worthiness issues.

“… _talk_ …”

Sam would have sworn he heard someone bite out that one word, voice low and firm like an order. Then there was nothing but a muffled sound of a phone being kind of manhandled, followed by a distant ‘thwack’ and a soft grunt.

“Uh… hello? Dean? Not driving, are you?”

They had sounded like an ‘I dropped the cell phone at 60 miles an hour and almost swerved searching the floorboards for it’ set of noises. Which was weird, because Dean had been off hunting solo with Cas for a week while Sam got some peace and sleep. It shouldn’t be a big struggle answering the phone in the car with two of them there to do it.

“No...oo _ooooh_. Not. _Ahhhh_ ….” Another popping sound. A thwack, no doubt about it this time – something unyielding against something softer. “Mmmnnnn. Not driving. It’s your quarter; what’s up, Sammy?”

Sam finally placed it; leather belt against bare ass cheeks. He and Dean both had that sound filed deep in their brains from very long ago.

“What the … _what_ are you doing?”

“Penance,” Dean’s voice had a breathless, floating quality in it that made Sam wish for an ‘unhear’ button. “The good kind. Just… get on with whatever you called….ungggh…about. And don’t ask questions you don’t want answered.”

Sam started to relate the details of a case he’d heard about on the news that morning – one that might be their kind of thing. It was hard to concentrate on telling the story correctly and thoroughly, though, with the running background noise of the belt whooshing through the air, connecting, the sound of Dean trying not to make sounds and starting to fail at it pretty consistently.

“Okay, look, I’m not sure why you took my call but I’m hanging up. Call me back when you’re done being kinky as fuck.”

“No, no, hey, Sammy…finish up. Your story - finish it up.”

“Why?” seemed like the obvious question.

“’Cause Cas said I gotta take the call and complete the call in full or… I’m not getting any more of….ah _hhhh_ hhh….” The next snap was loud – like it had happened there in the coffee shop with Sam and not in some motel room a few hundred miles away. “….any more of these. And he throws ‘em freaking sweet.”

“That is _not_ Castiel doing that to you?”

“Who the … _ohfucknnnmmmmm_ …who the hell did you think it is?”

“I was hoping a random stranger. I was…really hoping. When did this start?”

“When he told me how … _uhhhhyeah _…completely he can read my thoughts.”__

“Oh… no.”

“Oh, no, what, Sam? Spit it out ‘cause I can’t read yours.” 

“Castiel isn’t… _enjoying_ this, is he? As in enjoying you talking to me while he…” 

“Hold on. Let me ask him.” 

“No, don’t..nevermi…” 

“Yup. He is.” 

"Oh, for…..wait, _you’re_ not enjoying it, are you?” 

Sam jumped at the sound of the latest strike, strong enough that he actually heard the whoosh before it hit. 

“ _Why…yyyy_ are you asking, exactly? It might…. determine the answer.” 

“I’m deciding how many drinks I’ll need to wipe this out of my head.” 

“Is it okay by you if _I’m_ enjoying _him_ enjoying it?” 

“No!” 

The tone Sam shouted it in – Dean was pretty sure he’d have had a phone slammed in his ear if it were still possible to slam a phone down. 

It had been a long time since he’d laughed and hissed and moaned on a loop with the same long breath. 

~*~ 

“He… hung up. Cas…call’s over.” 

Dean jumped as he felt one last, strong snap against his skin. Then fingers behind him reached and took the phone away from where it was pressed between his left ear and shoulder, setting it on the nightstand closest. 

“Release your arms,” Castiel said, and Dean heard the belt drop to the floor. 

Anytime they did this, he sounded like the Castiel that Dean had first met; an angel of few words, voice soft and low and deeply contemplative like he was assessing every single thing there was to quantify and consider about Dean – maybe even things that Dean couldn’t see, wouldn’t be able to fully understand if he tried. 

“Get on the bed. On your knees, facing me. Hands low in front…” 

He enjoyed the sensation of being watched closely as he complied. Cas’ gaze never left his naked body as Dean got his balance on the mattress, shaking out his arms and getting the circulation moving again. 

He watched Cas back; the way he was tugging his tie loose as he joined him, looping it around Dean’s wrists, eyes fixed on what he was doing. Cas had toed his shoes off, ditched the socks before they started -- and him in those black pants, the sleeves on his white shirt rolled above his elbows, standing barefoot and silent, shirt half opened….he looked beautiful, Dean thought. Actually beautiful. Not just for a guy. 

He started to say something glib - to cut the fission of tension running through him, the want to be touched by, to come for this sweet, dark, heavy being but Castiel shook his head no. 

“Open wide,” A gag materialized in Cas’ hand– one with a neoprene-looking, ambitiously long and not narrow plug. It would both fill and stretch his mouth; something to bite and suck on for the next round. “Relax your jaw.” 

He missed his last chance to get a word out as the gag was pressed in. He tried to relax, to let his tongue adjust against it, to breathe evenly. He tried to get back to that place in his head where he was feeling all of this more than seeing it. 

Castiel had a solution for that, too. 

“Enjoy,” he held up a plain, black blindfold that hadn’t been there a second ago, sliding it over Dean’s eyes – soft leather, something fleecy on the back of it against his eyelids. He felt it being pulled taut, everything going dark, brain turning inward as Cas snapped the buckles on it, traced fingers through Dean’s hair, ran fingertips and the pad of a thumb over Dean’s jaw. 

“Olani hoath ol,” Castiel murmured against his ear. 

‘Yeah. Love you, too,’ Dean thought, and felt a palm cup against his face in acknowledgment. 

Message received. And he didn’t even have to say it out loud. Handy, that. 

~*~ 

“Ass up, please,” Castiel had gotten him rearranged how he wanted him – face down on the pillow, Dean’s bound hands in front so he could press up on them and get a breath as needed, knees wide and folded under himself. 

“Higher,” A strong smack of a palm against his already sore ass, fingertips dragging as Cas made sure every inch of his hand followed through. “Now.” 

There was a light, clinking sound of the belt being picked up and then it was back – being flung as hard as before but this time on skin that got missed when they’d been standing. It churned up fresh waves of rolling heat running through him. New welts rose; stinging, aching the way tears that had been held back too long felt once they’d started flowing. 

It was nothing, really, Dean thought as he broke out into a sweat – nothing compared to what he’d been through more than once in his life. This, by comparison, was mind-emptying, sweet sensation – easy to get lost in. Easy to forget everything bad that had happened, ever. 

He lost track of the strikes, didn’t notice when he gave up on holding in his sounds and started groaning and whining…shouting. The gag distorted and muffled it all, so what little he heard from beyond his foggy brain didn’t even sound like him. It sounded like someone else was falling apart, was going all animal yards away from where he was --floating, body hot and light and dancing like a candle flame. 

Somewhere in there, Castiel dropped the belt again – was kneading at his lit-up muscles and skin, slapping him, nails dragging over the most abused parts of his thighs and ass until Dean was rocking, forehead down. 

His throbbing, twitching cock started to demand his attention. His shouts turning into pleas for Castiel’s hand – now. 

“Okay. All right…” Castiel said and Dean was back to awareness, almost choking on the gag from the wave of ‘hell, yes’ that washed over him when long, warm, wet fingers breached him, sliding fast and strong; in, out, in, out. 

He was gonna get more than he’d hoped for. 

“Deep breath…” 

Dean heard the slide of a zipper – then there was a pause, and another kind of raw burn, _so damn good_ as Cas pushed in, hand coming around to start stroking him in rough synch with his thrusts. 

He was _gone_ after that; eyes squeezed tight behind the blindfold, jaw tight and teeth deep in the plug on the gag, ache and burn building inside and out. Dean fucked into that slick, strong hand, ass full of hot, sweet angel cock, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. He heard Castiel shouting when he bucked and went rigid, orgasm slamming through him, ass muscles gripping Cas hard with every spasm that followed until they were both sobbing and falling and boneless. 

He lost a few seconds, maybe a minute's worth of time before he really surfaced – eyes opening to a suddenly too-bright room, mouth free of the gag, panting for air against the pillow. He was drooling, still moaning in an unfortunate way he fought to put a halt to. 

“Good?” Castiel, stretching out beside him, naked now, too, except for his open, rumpled shirt, blue eyes dark and shining. “Better?” 

He looked pretty blown apart, too. 

“Yeah…” They both grinned at how low and shaky it came out, Cas reaching to kiss him again. “Hell, yeah.”


End file.
